I.

I would follow the prince until he were my god A bachelor then in the marble capital, All breath betraying life as humidity gnawed Any armor from any night so that battle, Impossible, knights turned sultry daze fanciful: Dicing enthusiasm, gentlemen cattle Snake-eyed, shazaamed, furnishing Fortune's bacchanal With heavy laughter, choking chuckling, careless Doping, back-slapping, cheers and jeers a madrigal, Devoted to resignation - this life breathless Need not summon vital, festive men iron linked Bound to glory into sandstone crumbling headless. Turn, turn, turn - a sticky sleep begging for sunshine Although the rays draw out all life, they also dry Clinging dew. Rolling rain of the forehead, the brine Promising relief past pain is pickled tie dye, But height of high temperature, terrible noon Brings the bug of hugging clothes so we abide by Principles of the eve, fellowship of the moon We can know sweet pleasure in day by memory So long as together we wed the merry swoon Hour by hour in like wistful reverie Moist, ticking time a loose hydrant, swept along Until thick consuming sky holds no treachery. Upright promises of a sun coming to make the day As a bed, long hoping to see rest unleashing the night's day Sleep with me, sweet eclipses outlast the terrible phantoms Were I to shine behind you forward would still seem like day Bring me your crown if only because I wear it well The light I see, beauty beyond, owing to our day I stretch the eye to own the right because I do As night begins I come to you to end your day Morning is a door unlocked so I can see you'll come Closed though, a secret still, until entry means day I rise to see you flush and come alive anew You lie inflamed, in praise, and I have moved the day

II. Until thick consuming sky holds no treachery When increases are met with likely decreases But never soon until drought met with lechery, Damp conclusion of incontinent releases The lady's spin will bring men to their knees, to pray New gods give relief: see that her wheel ceases But never soon until the hunter sights the prey, Dog mouths gentle on belimped necks as kisses Hasty supplications request her game to stay, So will earth and sisters halt in their abysses But never soon until the oak sinks its tap root, Soil spread apart, held, so no wind dismisses. Although I came to be deceived by my intent Master, commander, sage and priest, deft dance partner, Seer from Fortune's roll of my future's present Staid time released a spring from the summer's garner, Meadows well-seeded by winter lust bold and deep, Mechanical power building a strong corner, A bed secluded but wide, progeny to reap If only love illicit bore edible fruits, Spilled roughly rain across petals from the stalk's keep, I, nimbus, could take back the pour for more salutes. Whence clouds appear pay no matter for in the sky Move stormy donations that raise the flowers' shoots. Reticence no virtue in the warning of the flood Sing praise, scream danger, mark loud the incoming flood If the moan of god were promises favoring my ears Deafness harkens for drowning in mercy by flood The desk of man covered in want lies naked now Bring no more work: thrusting the pen spilled ink in flood Your sight did once stain my vision, false in seeing, Your shine now clears worldly guise, purifying by flood Friend of horses, describe your name with bucking hooves, With forward motion my charge will sate thirst with flood Stand by silent yet wholehearted, ardor reserved, Your undiminished tight-lipped nature breaks incoming flood

Patrick Benton

l'amour indpendant

January 1, 2014

III. Move stormy donations that raise the flowers' shoots, Spring joined to summer - to winter, spring, summer - one As proof that in many seasons without disputes I, raised high ballooning, if only a mean sun, Brought low too: prime sovereign in another throne Static in the pawn's view - block by block forward run Grins at a priest's denial of the altar prone Worship recalls the wayward piece without command Because gifts of the yeartide alone too well known Bind the trunk to its roots and its branches, disband When a fool who quarters resistance to the whole Declares his fall, prefers to leave the best unmanned. Yet twice I preferred an autumn divorced from spring, Decay seeping upward once seen invoked regret, Again not spotted until rotted each growth ring, Forgot sacred wood is sanctified when beset, Thinly proud when only climbed by the laity Silly insistence on the lesser sobriquet Having abandoned the house of my deity As a pledge honestly crossing in pilgrimage Caravan itself expressing a piety Desperate to think commission of sacrilege Would bring me serenely to purity before Missing you where you never were in this village. Bounce me up and down so well as I do sideways Raise me high and low, undo what I do sideways If I had to go toward or back and only that Make it all forward, I will come even sideways Thresholds need not trip me: steps toward you entrances I see only the frames around looking sideways I know nothing yet I know that you are something Do not turn to me please so I can love sideways Meet me on the main road so the route stays secret The hunt is better when I search first the sideways Be all around me so I am never inward Be the center, I cannot say what is sideways

IV. Missing you, never where you were, in this village, Shadows and ciphers circling near the broadest part, The temple base. Forlorn, forgotten privilege Offers respite: vigor sets the zealot apart, Pride denies the devotee of the common lot, An empty act maintains right to the work of art So spectation too excites a man with the thought I am exalted above for my sake itself, Not drawn by glory into an intricate knot With its depth and center the prize. Like a strange whelp, Author of his canon and hymnal, I deny Throw down the private idol from its secret shelf. If I were a fair man should I not pay homage On the fine dust of the floor, with my head bent low So I might find each thin shard, flatter the cottage Lest you find any words or praises overflow Good means of a gentleman worthy to carry Your gifts on his tongue and the boon prize you bestow Upon his lap, protected, and thus well wary Against placing himself again for vanity Anywhere but at your service, not contrary, As this dry empty place proves simple verity: When I have disgraced vows and run where you are not, I still find humble at your feet all amnesty. Fill my chest again when I nostalgic forget Very present reality I since forget I could wish away here and there, back again Never a pilgrimage should I hope to forget When I cast my eyes down on what I cast aside I alone see pious dives to reclaim what I forget Give me counsel, give me warning, so I alert Speak true, sing praise, study what hope none should forget When you came to me last time it could only be too short Walkers catch a bullet return none will forget Regret for time unpassed unfelt once returned But then planted, route dismissed - it I will forget

Patrick Benton

l'amour indpendant

January 1, 2014

V. I still find humble at your feet all amnesty. A southern prince of virgin lands all plenty ploughed, Recurrent chastity elusive travesty, Yet remain intact and in all senses unbowed So fertile thoughts spring, moving men to slaving work One after another breaking soil as a crowd, As small terriers work at mice burrows berserk, Bring to the master his rents and services due: Those smaller tokens multiplicious and ajerk Rescued from beneath, deposited, and the Shrew Specific dead, society still to accrue Like the earth rutted, seeded, a maiden anew. The prince, perpetual youth, son of tasteful garb, Bears lithesome renewal in his very body, His fresh face decorated with a jaunty barb, To the ghostly town of fetching gentry spotty Quality correlative to proximity, Now nobility failing, craftsmanship shoddy, In the reflection of his whole agility The grant of his ring, his jewel, to a low peasant Grounded by willful separation, a pity. I grieve no more for what the springtime finds pleasant, Nor right secret of courtly love to admire: Exaltation of the amour independant. The thrill of my affection is that your place apart Draws me to a pleasure in a world apart I bring through the door past a half wall desire mounting Communion in the temple and also to stand apart Above all else who worship noble and righteous Find my devotion to steady service apart The thrust of a sword can bring on sudden spasm Yet in a deep space touch a quiver now still, apart The elaborate court of the admired spatial Narrowed by the favor of our closeness apart The heavens high as the abyss is low but though Outside able journey I seek all lands apart

VI. Exaltation of the amour independant, Its reviving wheel carries and deposits No matter the worth, the man low or transcendent, Neither objects to the motion in its pockets, But when safe and afar might curse of its justice So as to whip its beauty into the closets As to hide ill work might a shameful apprentice Blameful for having ignored sound education, Resentful of his master and not his practice This work, though: wonder cannot suffer negation, Its narrow grip seizes, spares no loosening tool, Will not hide blithely, blesses with shared duration. Where it should not find me, desire never found Lies in fine matter and perhaps pursued again When empty prey calls nothing at me, to the ground When free escape beckons to a place, it has been Seeking without sought and a trap for a sojourn When I hunt for it blindly, I catch submission, But now am fit for the right ruler to govern As an animal for plowing on his home sod, Dutiful to bounties of dictate and concern So if the vernal flip raises a man well-flawed At the price of joining his retinue at court I would follow the prince until he were my god. The skies, my god, do not have to be walls of your home But I will move your ears with praises in that home Catch me in a tube if that pleases, a gerbil Could I be there I would make that tunnel my home I will meet your need with desire if you want so The temple of your worship provides comforts of home Were I to trade all my titles, leases, estates Beg like paupers in public, your esteem still home I take the elevator to your flight and walk hard Down a well-trod hallway to travel to your home No force to open an unchained door and enter Ardor rocks neighbors' windows and I hope they're home

Patrick Benton

l'amour indpendant

January 1, 2014